“He did say not to feel pressured to come along. He was very adamant that you not come if you didn’t want to,” Jessica added, studying Sam a little too closely. “Do you?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Sam said through clenched teeth masked behind a smile. Despite her feelings for Taylor, this was a huge step for their company and so many others out there who needed a little help. “Honestly, I’d love to come.”
“Excellent.” She smiled even wider. “Do us proud, Sam.”
“I will,” she promised, her heart picking up even more speed at the prospect of going out with Taylor in public. Why had he done this? Was this some sort of message to her? Did this mean…? No. It meant nothing. Nothing had changed. She was still her, and he was still him.
The second she was alone, she pulled the email up again.
If they were going to go out, she wanted a moment or two alone with him first before getting thrust into the midst of her coworkers and his.
She stared at the greeting, forcing herself to leave it as-is, and added:
Dear Mr. Jennings,
It would appear that we’re kind of in business together and are attending the same event tomorrow. I feel no pressure to attend but will be doing so as it’s best for my company. See you there.
Professionally,
Ms. Matthews
She hovered over the send button but eventually hit it. Within thirty seconds, she had a reply. Heartbeat echoing in her head, she clicked on the email.
Sam,
I’ve always loved you in red. I’m still looking forward to our second date.
With love,
Taylor
She didn’t know what hit her the hardest: that he’d ignored all her professional cues and formalities, that he’d mentioned a second date, or that he’d thrown in the “L” word. Twice.
Shaking her head, she left his email unanswered and grabbed her coat and purse. She had a red dress to buy, and it was going to be one hell of a dress, not because of who she was going out with, but because it was for a fancy work event, and she had to play the part.
And if she told herself that enough times…
She just might believe it.
Chapter Twenty-One
“I think it’s good, Mom.”
“Almost…there…” His mother fussed over his red bow tie, tightening it until he shrunk into a tiny kid on Christmas Eve getting dressed for church all over again. He winced, swallowing experimentally. He could still do that, so breathing remained an option. She smiled, her wrinkled face lighting up when she stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Perfect.”
Yeah, sure it was, if perfect meant suffocating…
“Thanks.”
Seven thirty-one. Jesus, his stomach was a tangled ball of nerves.
He’d done a hell of a lot of thinking and soul-searching after he lost Sam, and he’d come up with the perfect gesture to show her just how much she meant to him. Hopefully it was enough.
“Don’t be nervous,” his mom said, touching his cheek tenderly. His mother was so short, barely five feet tall, but somehow, she would always seem larger than life to him. She had done so much for him—given so much for him—and he’d never repay that. “This Sam girl won’t be able to resist you when she sees you all dressed up like this.”
He’d told his mom about Sam and the way he’d lost her, and she had been nothing but supportive and excited over the fact that her son had finally met a woman he wanted to be with. “I hope you’re right, but she’s not exactly the ‘swooning’ type. Getting her to forgive me will be a lot harder than being nicely dressed when she shows up.”
“Then it’s a good thing you have more of a plan than skating by with your handsome face,” she teased. “I can’t wait to meet her. Don’t forget dinner at my place next Friday.”